


Reconciliation

by Starr_Reborn



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: As things appear so too shall more tags and characters, Belle don't beat around the bush, But only a little, Delicious delicious self loathing, Drugs, F/M, General goofy shit, Horns, Humans are not the dominant species on earth, Male Anna (Frozen), Really awkward siblings being really awkward, Teenage angst and drama, general weirdness, magical modern AU, movie theater hijinks, unnecessary amounts of affection, what does that mean?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:38:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7167761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starr_Reborn/pseuds/Starr_Reborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's spent the last four years of his life wondering why he was never good enough for his own family to care. Well, not all the family, really... just Her. Always Her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coward

**Author's Note:**

> I made this years ago. Enjoy the fruits of my youth in the frozen fandom.

"Hey there, haven't seen you around here," He smiled charmingly into the mirror, clicking his tongue. He puffed up, flexing to define the lean muscles covering his thin torso. The mean mug he wore, and the line of muscle... was unimpressive. With a sigh he let the pose go. His shoulders drooped and his arms fell limply to his sides. "Yeah, because that'll make them look bigger." He hissed to himself, reaching up to finger one of his horns.

He wasn't totally unattractive. In this world of Hellions, he was one of the lesser extremes. He'd seen certain different species of Hellions that were downright _ugly._ He was what some might call a pretty boy, even. Handsome enough, lightly tanned peach-colored skin with a dusting of freckles and a shade of red hair like rust in the sunlight. His jaw was angular, covered in a layer of blood-red hair that he felt made him look older, more handsome. His eyes were bright and glowed in the dark, a beautiful sea foam. His teeth were straight and white, his canines elongated to points. His ears were long, pointed, peeking through his hair...

He'd seen some truly _monstrous_ Hellions. Scales and tails and claws and fangs down to their pointed, horned chins. That drooled and growled and stunk always like meat and blood. For some odd reason or another.

He was pretty, he was even good looking!... _But my horns..._ They were so... _small. Like,_ really, really small. Baby horns. They were two inches long, and it'd taken him eighteen years to grow THAT long. All his life others had pointed and laughed. Most children had three inches. _CHILDREN._

"That's just it. I'm officially a loser. Why do I even try?" He grumbled, reaching up with his other hand. He curled them around his horns. They couldn't even fill his palms. The pretty face in the mirror scowled back at him. It mocked him. Snarling, he pulled at his horns. Hard enough to make his temples throb and the blood pulse through the bone extensions. It hurt. It always did, but some part of him always hoped maybe, just _maybe_ he could do it this time.

His father had a glorious head of horns. Thick, and all black, they curled up gracefully from his head and extended for a solid nine inches. His mother's were thinner, a dark brown, but extended up and then out five inches, branching off into three points on either side. And up at least seven inches. His own sister had six inches of graceful, hazel colored horn that were similar to their father's in the way they curved up out of her temples, but they seemed to flow out of her skull, complementing the curves and lines of her regal features.

_It's just embarrassing._

She hardly ever talked to him too, his sister. He got it, though, he understood. He was a shameful disgrace of a Hellion. More importantly, he was bad for the family image. If he was her he would probably avoid him too. Maybe.

_Probably not. I mean it's actually kind of rude. Like really rude, and mean._

His own mother and father didn't even avoid him. They just gave him these smiles that were always full of pity, but love. His sister... avoided him at all costs, wouldn't look him in the eyes, and sometimes spoke to him when it was necessary and inescapable. Like when she came home to visit on holidays, and they were stuck in the same room for bonding err whatever. And she engaged in stiff, formal conversations, about general, superficial topics.

_Like strangers._

"Lame. Lame, lame, fucking LAME." He was going to be graduating soon, dammit. This was supposed to be the year of his life, his last chance to impress unimportant people before he'd be setting foot into a pseudo world-of-his-own in college. He might even go to school with his sister! That wasn't weird was it? Siblings attended the same schools all the time... It wasn't weird. But it felt weird. "Probably because I only want to go for her..."

_Okay, but it's not THAT weird, cuz like... it's only that I really just want to KNOW her._

Mom and dad were always busy. They worked in the Shade Courts, not too high in the totem but high enough to be busy; but he at least lived with them, so he saw them often enough. Big sister had moved out after graduating from high school early. She was attending university now, far away from home. Four hours. That was without counting traffic and gas/food stops.

Maybe he was overreacting. She probably wasn't avoiding him that was silly she was pursuing a pre med degree she was going to be a doctor she wasn't so petty as that.

_Still feels like it though._

With a sigh he pushed away from the counter, grabbing his shirt as he turned and grabbed the door knob. He threw his shirt around his neck as he twisted the door knob, flicking the lights off and pulling the door open, stepping forward into the hall-

" _Shit!_ " the curse slipped out suddenly as a body collided with his own. Shit, idiot, _idiot!_ He wasn't a particularly large fellow, but surely twice his sister's size. Sometimes he forgot that when she visited, those few times a year that she would, they shared a bathroom. It was just so rare, is all.

The only problem was that when she fell to the floor, sitting there in a surprised heap, he could only stare in shock, frozen. Mouth hanging open.

_Fuck fuck fuck I'msorryI'msosorry, I didn't mean to fuck-_

But his mouth wouldn't form the words. He stuttered and stammered, arms hanging limp again. She stared up at him, her own mouth hanging open, her eyes meeting his for what felt like the first time in forever. He had the decency to feel shame and embarrassment, cheeks warming. He looked away shutting his eyes and slapping a hand over them.

She was wearing a bathrobe, loosely tied. He hadn't seen anything, he'd been looking at her face but the familiar fluffy blue collar wrapped around her swan like neck had dawned it upon him.

"S-sorry." He finally spat. Blindly, he snapped a hand out for her, manners kicking in with the restart of his brain. After a few moments, her own hand wrapped - _somewhat not really, she had hands almost as tiny as his horns_ \- around his, he pulled her up. "Sorry." he muttered again, stepping into the door jam, tripping out into the hall but catching himself before he fell on his face. His eyes opened but he refused to look back at her.

The door didn't close just yet. And in the half second he was frozen again, he heard the softest _giggle._

_Good one, idiot._

He felt the ice in his veins melt as a second wave of embarrassment washed over him, limbs working with enough grace that he didn't trip a second time in the mad dash he made for his room. Had she heard him talking to himself in the mirror?

_Probably._

"So. _Lame._ " The door felt exceptionally cold against his skin, but he leaned his back on the cool wood, legs feeling weak. That would account for their bonding experience of the day. It was spring break for her, and for the first time in two years she decided to spend it at home. She had an apartment, she didn't even need to come home.

_I'm so certain she's not regretting that now. Idiot._

He rubbed his hand over his face, staring morosely at his cell. As if knowing his pain, it began to vibrate. He waited only a few seconds before pushing himself off the door and throwing himself lengthwise across the bed, snatching his phone up and opening up his texts.

_yo loser._

Snorting, rolling his eyes, he replied, _sup douchebag._

_can you work tonight?_

He considered, for half a moment, telling his best friend and co-worker to politely copulate with himself. But then his sister's face flashed through his mind and his fingers tapped over the buttons and hit send, _fuck yes._

 _cool thanks yo._ And then, _thought you had plans?_

 _shit happens._ He knew he'd be questioned about it later. He'd tried to take a little time off in an attempt to be closer to the family. Even dad and mom had taken the time off for Elsa. All the hard work they put in showed in the constantly wasted vacation days every year. For once they'd be relaxing at the house and using those days. Some of them.

The good news was that they probably wouldn't notice. Mom might. But dad wouldn't. Either way, they'd be more focused on Elsa. And she'd be more focused on avoiding him.

Picking up his phone again, he typed out another text, _boss man working tonight?_ The response was quick,

_Nah he's in corona tonight._

He couldn't help grinning. As well as he got along with Wes, the man was a notorious ass hole. When he'd been hired the little man had squinted up at him and informed, _"Do you understand that I'm what many would call an ass hole? Does that pose a problem for you?"_ And when he'd responded that it wouldn't, the man only shrugged.

True to his confession, he was a bit... well he was interesting. Mostly irritable, quick to anger. He had a large snout and gnarly teeth, glowing yellow eyes, a bit of hair or fur on the back of his neck, but a growing bald spot on top of his head. He was one of the Creatures, and one of the prettier ones at that. But he didn't care for what people said about him; he had a dry, dark humour that was oddly charming and a quick wit, tongue like a razor which he used to dress down an employee or two.

He was an owner of multiple theater complexes, and he made and lost money constantly, being threatened and disrespected most every day - they weren't the prettiest theaters or on the nicest side of town, so an interesting range of characters passed through them on a daily basis - but he kept working. Despite the curses. Despite the bull shit. Every day. It was respectable, and he respected it, and the strange man that was his boss. Also for the fact the little man had been shot twice and stabbed at least once.

_Tough son of a bitch._

_That actually kinda sucks._ he responded at length. _Is Meg working tonight?_

_Yeah, Adam too._

Grinning, giggling giddily, he pulled up a new text to Adam, _bruh, we bout to chill after work?_ It was hardly ten seconds later that a response came buzzing back.

 _FUCK. YAS._ and, _wanna get ducked up?_ ending with, _*fucked. Damon auto curvy. CORRECT. DAMN. ENGRISH SO DIFFICULT._

Grin growing impossibly wide, he nodded to himself, simply saying, _see you in thirty._  He sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed and sliding off onto the floor. He walked over to his dresser, throwing a drawer open and digging through the shirts inside. He pulled out a black band tee, throwing it over his head and pushing his arms through, straightening the shirt over his chest.

_At the very least, tiny horns makes dressing easy._

He pulled out a flannel shirt, leaving only the top two buttons undone. Glancing in the mirror he shoved a hand through his disheveled hair, sighing as he grabbed a brush and ran it through the unruly locks. When it appeared to be lying almost flat against his skull, he threw the brush back onto his bed. Grabbing his phone, he shoved it into his back pocket, walking out the door... And back in two seconds later to grab his wallet, house and car keys off the dresser.

"Mum, dad, I got called into work!" he shouted as he ran down the stairs. He stopped at the front door only because he heard her - his mother - call for him from the kitchen.

"What!? Can't they ever give you a day off?" She came out from around the corner, a white apron with green, red, and purple polka dots on it wrapped around her lithe frame. His sister got most of her looks from their mother. Her face, pretty pale skin, light freckles, her eyes. It was dad she'd gotten her hair from, though his was closer to a golden honey, and hers a starlight silvery blonde.

_I don't even look like my own parents..._

"Meh," he shrugged, glancing at the front door, then back at his mother. His eyes narrowed on the sauce stained wooden spoon in her hands. "Are you _cooking_ right now?"

"I can cook if I want to!" She defended, arms crossing over her chest, pout over taking her mouth. He couldn't help chuckling as the power stance she struck allowed a thick droplet of sauce to ooze off the utensil and fall to the pristine floor below.

"Right," he grinned at her, the pout fell slowly into a troubled frown. She stepped forward, looking up at him, brows furrowed. "Till close." He answered the unspoken question burning in her eyes. She sighed unhappily, shaking her head.

"That bastard."

"Mom!" He started laughing, more out of shock than humor. _But okay that's pretty funny though._

"What? You never get weekends off! I'm allowed to be angry." Pouting once more, dripping more sauce over the rug now, he stepped forward, gently removing the spoon from her hands.

"You're ruining your floor, by the way," he looped his free arm around one of hers, leading her back into the kitchen. He came across delightfully smelling food in a wide black pan. Vegetables, what looked like chicken. "Is that stir fry? Smells good; save me a plate?" She sighed, frown back in place. Nodded.

"Of course. Try to be home before one?" He nodded and smiled.

"Do my best!" _Lie._ "I'll see you tomorrow, if I see you." And to be honest, he was counting on not seeing her. But he left that out. She wouldn't have found it very nice. When he made it back to the front door he paused one last time to glance up the stairs. He heard the shower running. _Good._ All the excuse he needed to walk out without a goodbye.


	2. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a coward, that's for sure. Can he REALLY be blamed for seeking out courage in other forms? 
> 
> ....Ok so yes it makes him more paranoid, that's beside the point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do drugs, m'Kay? Partake instead of nature's bounty in its many forms which don't have to be touched by man to be enjoyed.
> 
> Also any mistakes you find? Forgive, forget or tell me, Kay bye!

* * *

"Enjoy your movie!" His grin was bright, voice cheery, well wishes sincere. The gaggle of girls walking away paid no mind to it though.

_Yes hello I'm the invisible man nice to meet you._

"Tough," his companion standing at the popcorn machine grunted, whistling lowly as his eyes tracked the figures of the four young women walking up towards the theaters, glancing down either hallway before turning left. "They were cute too."

"Oh shut up," he snorted back, rolling his eyes. "I've seen your girl, she's fine as fuck." The furry, horned brute grinned widely in response.

"Hell yeah she is!" He was at least half Minotaur. The other half... was a bit of a mystery to him. Adam's mom was a bit of a sore subject; he could recall one conversation with the beastman where the big brute had said, _"I remember being four years old... And hating my mother for turning me into another statistic... A beast with a face even a mother couldn't love... I told her that, man, to her face. She didn't even say anything..."_

He didn't bring Adam's mother up too much after that.

"I mean, I'm pretty right? Tell me I'm pretty!" He could afford to be dramatic. Those girls were the last customers they'd had waiting in line for concessions, no one would see him whine and stamp his feet.

"Eeeh, you're alright I guess. A bit fleshy... But I mean, not everyone can have my dashing good looks, you know it would just be impossible to live with such overwhelming beauty!" Adam put a furry, claw-tipped hand to his chest, throwing his head back and posing.

"You're beautiful darling, don't ever change," he intoned, clapping slowly.

"Face it, kid, you look like a baby faun with those horns of yours!" An arm looped around his neck, feminine fingers tugging on one horn for emphasis.

"Ow! Quit it!" He ducked away from her, holding his horns protectively.

"Whaaat? It's the truth, _pretty boy_ , let's not hash it any other way."

"... you could sugarcoat it some," he griped, scowling as he let his hands drop. It WAS true. He looked like a less furry, hoof-lacking faun. And they were notoriously a weaker race. Not lesser... just lacking in spiritual power or latent abilities. Good with music though.

"Sweet boy," his favorite manager grinned. Cat that caught the canary. "Would you love me as much if I did?" _Good point._ "That's what I thought. Now boys, I'm going to run upstairs and check the platters, make sure everything is running slick; you guys..." She glanced around the empty lobby area. "Try to hold back the crowds."

They both chuckled, saluting or nodding at her.

"Yeah sure."

"No prob, Meggie." Adam closed the glass doors to the popcorn machine, turning around to brush any spilled, buttery popcorn off the counter and onto the floor. "Gonna go grab a broom from the back."

"Better do it quick, these people are looking restless!" Adam only waved over his shoulder as he stepped out from behind the counter and trotted slowly towards the back room. In the silence, left to his own devices, he pulled his phone out of his apron pocket for the first time in an hour and a half. He'd felt it buzzing against his hip while taking an order, but they'd had a surprisingly steady trickle of customers so he hadn't had the time to pull it out and check it.

_Hey. Umm, so it sucks you have work tonight. Come talk to me when you get off? I'll be awake._

For a moment, or like... a lot of them, he stood there staring down at his phone blankly. For whatever reason, he was surprised she had his number. Yeah, they were siblings but like. She didn't talk to him really. At all. How had she even gotten his number?

_I mean... I guess I've sent her texts before. But... is it rude to ask why she's talking to me?_

Yes... yes that would be bad. Better to bite his tongue and bide his time. He should be grateful, not spiteful. Or both. Both didn't seem _so_ bad.

"So like," Adam was back, already sweeping up a pile of popcorn from behind concessions. He himself was wiping down the counters, trying to distract himself with menial labor. "My sister is in town, and it's weird."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, she goes to North Mountain U."

"Way up in the boonies, damn yo. They have some great drugs up there, though," he looked up from spraying Windex on the glass covering the candies, scowling over at the beastly man.

"Dude, my sister is _way_ too fucking straight laced for that bullshit."

"I'm just sayin' is all."

"Shuddup, I was just sayin' some shit too, I'd like to finish just sayin' it. May I?" Adam's fangs sunk into his lower lip in an attempt to hold back an amused grin. It didn't work. He nodded his assent though, chuckling,

"Sure princess, go ahead."

"I'll kick you in the throat man, don't fucking call me that!" He spat, scrubbing furiously at a spot of dried soda that wouldn't come off easy. "As I was saying, so she in town. And we used to be all chill with each other but then she got frosty and I dunno really what happened but we have hardly spoken more than a fuckin' paragraph to each other in the past four or so years?"

"Was that a question or like...?"

He sighed, planting his hands on the counter, looking down at the reflection of himself in the now clean glass.

"I think. I dunno. She just text me yo. Talking 'bout talking. I'm... confused I guess."

"Right well if I'm to assume she's been the one giving the cold shoulder-" he waited for the redhead to nod yes before continuing, "Sounds like a right bitch to me. The fuck she wanna talk about? I mean damn, shit, fuckin'..." He chuckled at the beast, smiling now at least that he'd said something.

Adam was ranting about communication now. How the society they lived in would always be incomplete and obsolete and broken so long as all species and races continued to exist without good communication. Sharing hardships was what made people stronger, relationships crumbled without communication. Between lovers, brothers, sisters, cultures, etcetera etcetera, so on and so forth.

"What'd you do?" He'd moved on to cleaning the drink machines, making sure the metal levers weren't sticking with soda residue, cleaning the grills over the drain. He didn't pause to answer her question.

"I did nothing-"

"You broke him. He's ranting about libraries now."

"And books are becoming _digital!_ What is this travesty!? Why I think..."

"That he is," he glanced back at the purple eyed woman, glaring petulantly at Adam, offering her a sheepish grin. "Sorry Meg." She shook her head, sighing and massaging her temples. She had been human once, but fell in love with and married the son of a Celestial Being. She was immortal to some extent now, was ridiculously older than anyone they worked with, and had at least one child that he knew of. A sassy redheaded, six year old version of her.

_Well calling her daughter a SASSY version of her is a bit redundant..._

She was laidback, fun to work with and even managed to put up with their constant stream of chatter. Which was always a plus. And her own brand of bitch was particularly fun to listen to on bad days, so all in all he loved working with her.

"Yeah sure." She was silent a few moments. As long as Adam was standing near. And then he went to the back to... restock or get ice or something. Meg turned to him then. "What's got you so quiet tonight? Usually you're ranting with him."

"I'm going to call it, 'Back burner son syndrome'," she snorted, but smiled. Her eyes, though, were still concerned.

"You gonna be alright?" She asked softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her, nodding.

"Yeah I'll be fine. It's fine. No worries." She kept eye contact with him for a shortlong eternity, finally squeezing his shoulder once then removing herself from him.

"Good. I need my male employees to do the heavy lifting," she smiled to soften the statement, show that it was in jest. But he laughed and agreed with her,

"Wouldn't want it to warp your delicate frame. It's the only thing that keeps us in business you know."

"I do know. Me and Adam, our endless bounty of beauty just may keep this business afloat for another ten years, even without a full range of digital projectors!"

"But only if we're lucky!" Adam returned just in time to sling one gargantuan arm across Meg's thin shoulders, the other arm cocked, fist planted on his hip. The two were looking off into the distance dramatically. "Alas, our _friend_ here might just ruin our chances with his-"

"Don't you dare say what I think you're going to!"

"Ever so tiny, little, itty bitty baby horns scaring off the hot customers."

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU ADAM!" Meg ducked out from under Adam's arm just in time for Red -not the most original name, she knew, but he answered to it - to come at the beastman, grappling with him momentarily before the huge hairy man had him in a head lock.

"I wanna hear ya squeal like a pig, boy!" The half-Minotaur was shouting in his best impersonation of a hick accent.

"I'LL-" Red struggling, hands pushing uselessly at the furry brick wall he considered one of his friends. "Kick yer ass!"

"Ya gotta kiss it first, boy, kiss it slow like ya love it!"

Meg only sighed, crossing her arms and leaning her hip against the counter. She _should_ be doing the ticket numbers and counting up the registers. Or something even remotely important and work related. But, smiling fondly at the two boys she considered her work children, she decided she wasn't going to just yet. Something about watching those two cut up was just too amusing. She felt a sort of fondness for it, their friendship.

Something like, look how far we've come? That when she was growing up, that fight wouldn't have been a friendly one? She pondered on it as she turned from them and opened up a drawer to pull out a calculator so she could start on the numbers. It was good, she decided, whatever the feeling was it was a good one.

"Alright children! Cut it out and get back to work! I want to leave early tonight, actually get to put little miss queen to bed myself for once." So quickly he almost fell flat on his face, he was released from the hold and Adam was saluting Meg again.

"Yes ma'am!"

He waved at her with one hand, rubbing his neck with the other, "You got it, lady."

* * *

True to her word, Meg left early that night. The steady trickle of customers had still only amounted to just about ninety or so people in the complex. And although at least half of them had purchased popcorn or some such theater commodity, it was hardly dirty in the theaters. So with confidence in her two employees, she locked the doors to the complex promptly at nine, and left for home by nine thirty. Only after finishing reports on the numbers and sending a fax of the info to the boss man.

It still only took them until ten fifteen or so to have the whole place cleaned. By ten thirty, the lights were shut off, inside and out. And although no customers were left behind, the complex was not quite lifeless, for in an empty theater, in the dark, the two workers sat.

Smoking a joint.

"So," Adam paused to take a toke, holding it in until it burned and then blowing it out and passing the j back to his small friend. "You literally worked tonight to avoid your sister? I changed my mind; you, my friend, are in fact... a right little bitch. Andy, you're better than this."

"He says as he passes drugs to his friend," they both started giggling at that, Andy coughing eventually as he tried to fit in a hit. And then, "But I know yo. Total bitch move on my part, but in my defense... how was I supposed to know that she suddenly wanted to be my friend?! I practically pushed her to the floor just leaving the bathroom, I was pretty certain she'd take that as plenty good reason to avoid me!"

"She was already avoiding you, she didn't need a reason before. Maybe you knocked some sense into her, literally!" Adam started giggling again but Andy rolled his eyes.

"I dunno man," he made an executive decision to hit the joint a second time before handing it back to Adam. "I got a weird feeling about this. Like... like, it feels like my mum told me something like 'We need to talk, young man', ya know? That's how I felt reading that text. Like I'm in trouble, or I might be. It's just weird, 'cause it seems like she's been avoiding me for nearly half a decade... but suddenly, suddenly she wants to fuckin' talk n' shit. Like... how m'I s'posed to feel about that, ya know?"

They passed the joint in silence for a bit. Until it got too short. Adam put it out on the sole of his shoe. Putting the remains in his jacket pocket. Out of the other pocket he extracted a bag with at least two more joints and three blunts. The latter, he pulled from the bag, lighting it up and starting round two of their infamous late night theater sessions.

"I think she has regrets. Last time she saw you, last time you were really close, you were about to start high school. And now you're about to finish it. And for whatever reason she missed basically all of your high school career. She's seeing you now and you're an adult. Mostly." _Oh another horn joke, hardy har har._ "And she regrets that her baby brother ain't so much a baby, but she had nothing to do with it. She ain't tryina make it seem like you in trouble, she's the one that fucked up! It's just that she's taking this, you, and your relationship with her seriously. So she's coming off as sounding very grave and serious about it. She loves you man, but she hasn't shown you that. And she really regrets it."

"Man, the fuck you know that? You've never even met her!"

"Doesn't matter. You're a pretty fucking nice person, how could she not love you?"

"No no, I meant," the blunt was in his hands, and he couldn't just ignore it. His voice was gruffer with smoke as he continued, "I meant that other shit. About her regrets n' shit."

Adam didn't respond at first, hitting the blunt slowly. Eventually, he responded simply with,

"Drugs, yo." Andy snorted with laughter, nodding.

"The troof, doh, it be the troof." He was still wearing his apron, even though it stunk like work. Mostly for convenience. Those front pockets were dope, super useful. He felt his phone vibrating in his lap, laying against his thigh in the right pocket of the apron. "Shit. Who the fuck-"

_where are you? The hours online are only listed for seven o'clock shows..._

"Fucking _dammit!_ " He'd never mentioned to his parents the schedule. Only that most days he worked until close. Only thing was, most days close was at or around ten. Weekends were long, when they were open until at least ten, and didn't close until twelve, sometimes one. They'd never bothered to ask, or look after him. They trusted him because he'd never given them a reason not to. Even if he _was_ into recreational drinking and smoking. They just didn't know that. Yet.

_It would ALSO be bad for the family image. Or, at least, worse._

"What's up pussy cat?" Adam chuckled, trying to hand the blunt back. But Andy wouldn't take it, the silhouette of his face in the light from his phone screen struck a terrified expression. "Dude, whoa, what's up?"

"My sister, man; fuckin' I AM in trouble, yo! She's asking why I ain't home, dude she knows she's gonna get me in trouble I can't, I don't want that fuck I don't-"

"CHILL, YO! Cool it, be frosty, be ice cold, hit this blunt and calm thyself friendo." Andy took his advice. Putting his phone back in his pocket, trembling hands taking the blunt and pressing it to his mouth to take in a hit. "Man, stop burning it so hard!"

"Shit, sorry man," he handed it back with a soft cough and an impressive exhale of smoke. Even if his Affinity wasn't particularly strong - the larger the horns the greater the Affinity, potentially speaking - the Fire he could sometimes call on was friend only in distress.

"No prob, no prob... listen, just tell her you'll be home in another thirty or so. It'll be fine, yo. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"Mhmm, in what universe?"

"Surgeon Simulator. Which is almost as good as the highest marks from the most prestigious schools, so they say."

"Ya know, I've heard that's true. Internet would never betray us. Internet is our friiieeend."

"FRIIIEEEND!"

"Just like drugs-"

"DRRRRRRUUUUUUUUGS!"

Snorting with laughter again, the two of them only calmed completely when Andy stood with a sigh, brushing his front off in case any ashes had fallen on him. Considering he'd cleaned this whole theater less than an hour ago, he cared surprisingly little for the fact those ashes would just end up dirtying the floor instead. Adam started whining right away.

"Boo, I call lame, BOOOO!"

"I know, I know, I'm a loser-"

"YOU'RE A BIG FAT BUBBLE BLOWING BABY!"

"Yes, that too. But alas, my dear fuzzy friend, duty calls. And I must answer."

"Hehe, doody. Heh."

"...yyyeah, anyway yo. See you sometime?" He held a hand out, curled into a fist. Adam bumped it with his own.

"That you will! Want any for the road?"

"I'm a'ight. Thanks yo, keep it icy," he was calling over his shoulder as he walked up the aisle to one of the doors leading out into the main hallways. He'd parked close to the exit door on the exact opposite side of the complex, and he was heading for the theater directly next to it. They put locks on the main exit doors before closing, but not on the exit doors in the theaters.

"You know I will, brother, you know I will." Echoed back at him just before the door swung shut. Chuckling, he walked easily through darkened halls, into an even darker theater, and out into an equally evening darkened world. He loved night. Always had. It was his favorite part of the day.

_Maybe I'm actually adopted, so I'm like, part vampire._

"Or something," he muttered to himself as he fumbled with his car keys. They finally fit in the damn key hole, and in the next second he was sitting in his car staring straight ahead and trying to collect his thoughts. Okay. So like. Was he in trouble? "I fucking hope not. I'm too high for this bullshit." He started the car, pulling out his phone before he started driving to tell her, _I'm on my way._

_Come to my room._

He wondered if she'd sent the text first but he hit send before it arrived. He hadn't even had time to put the car in reverse before it'd started buzzing in his hands. And why did that look so weird to his eyes? Maybe 'cause it sounded kinda dirty...

_Okay, now I'm just being stupid._

He shook his head to clear it of thoughts now, putting his phone in his lap again and focusing on backing up and out of the spot, and driving his happy ass back to the place he called home. Sometimes. He wondered, briefly, if it was weird that he was nervous to see his sister... And then realized, yes it was, but he was a particularly weird Hellion to begin with so that hardly mattered. The drive was twenty minutes at its longest, but he managed to go out of his way and extend it to forty.

Even if his gas was low. Or, no, ESPECIALLY because his gas was low. Obviously he had to drive to that one station out in bum fuck because it's prices were better. Obviously. But, unfortunately, he could extend this adventure for only so long, and all too soon the silhouette of his house came upon him. He parked on the side of the street in front of his house, ever conscious and considerate of his usually busy parents and the fact it was a pain trying to back out if a car was a scant few feet behind your own.

His sister's room faced the back yard, so she probably didn't know he was home yet. Which was good. He wasn't quite ready to step out of the car yet.

"I... am a MAN! My horns may be small but my courage is great and mighty!" He prepped himself, trying to get in a sense of what he would call hypetitude. "I am a big brave dog. And I got this. I. GOT. THIS. SHIT!" With another deep breath, and a nod to himself in the rearview mirror, he opened the car and stepped out. Totally forgetting that his phone was only in his lap, not in his apron pocket. So it fell, clattering as it hit screen first against the curb, and then the road. "Sonofa-" he stepped out and dropped to his knees in the grass, reaching under the car, " _biiitch!_ "

But his fingers closed around it and when he pulled it out into the dim orange glow of the street lamp, he saw that quite luckily, the screen hadn't been shattered to bits. Small favors. Straightening up, he calmly closed the door, locked it, and brushed grass from his apron before walking up the lawn to the door.

_Open._

He almost expected someone to be waiting on the bottom stair behind the door. But no one was. Because this wasn't weird, he wasn't in trouble, he was totally fine. Things were great. Happy fun times for all!

A door, upstairs, opened.

He stepped completely inside, locking the door behind him and rushing as quietly as could, taking it two stairs at a time, up to the second floor landing before-

The light flashed on, blinding him. And his sister stood by the light switch, fingers still pressing against the switch. And he stood three steps from the top, staring, paralyzed by... surprise. It was probably surprise or shock or the feeling he'd been caught trying to run to his bedroom and hide.

"Andre," _Andy,_ he wanted to say, _people call me Andy. FRIENDS call me Andy. We aren't strangers._ And a million and one other things. Greetings and curses, questions and jokes and stories and apologies and accusations.

What he said was, "Uhm, yeah?"

She smiled. And it was odd, he couldn't recall that his sister ever really smiled like that with her whole face. Nose scrunched up and eyes squinted but twinkling and her teeth were showing and her-

_Okay, but THIS is weird._

"I'm glad you're home," and her voice was quiet, but the relief was loud. She was REALLY glad he was home. And now he felt like a jackass for leaving in the first place.

"Uh, yeah," _HOLY FUCK CAN YOU ENGLISH PLEASE!_ "I was hanging out with my co-worker, beast, but his name's Adam, but he IS a beast, ( _Okay, bit too much Englishing now_ ) in like a literal and figurative sense. But uh, and he's a Minotaur-something-or-other not that that matters but yeah he's chill. We chill, on occasion, like tonight. After work. Which we did tonight. But not every night.( _Please stop now, stop talking, shut up_ ) Tonight we'd just been PLANNING to and I kinda didn't think you'd, ya know, miss me-"

"I always miss you."

"Uh... right. Uhm, did you wanna, uh, talk err... something?" _Yes because I haven't been doing enough of that._ "To be honest I'd really love to change outta these clothes first..." As he watched on, hesitantly glancing towards his door, her face colored and she stepped back. She'd been standing accidental guardian in the space between the banister and wall he would need to slip through to get to his room.

"O-of course yeah do that! I'll just, uh," she hooked a thumb over her shoulder, at the ajar door to her room. "So when you're all, all ready and whatnot, I'll be in there." He wondered if she was bad at Englishing like he was, or if she didn't really consider it her room anymore. Live in a place long enough, you will call it home and love it as such.

_But what about hearts and where they are in the equation?_

And did all that nonsense even matter? Hell no, but all this pondering might buy him a precious few more seconds of putting off this unfortunate powwow he was about to have with his gloriously distant elder sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Love youuu!!! Thanks for checking it out!)


	3. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear was a silly, irrational thing, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written over the course of the last two days as i try to slip back into the skin of the person I was when I originally wrote this story. Also so I could get into Elsa's head.
> 
> Enjoy!... or don't, I guess. Kinda can't help your tastes can ye? Anyway, forgive mistakes or point them out, Kay thanks!

Where had the time gone?

Oh yes that's right, the time went into hours of intensive study to be the best, be number one so that maybe, just maybe, she could make him proud the day she decided she was ready to face him. The time went into hours upon hours of sleepless nights worrying about him and what he was doing just right then - which in all likelihood was sleeping ( _she would only later come to know the error of that assumption_ ). The time went into wasted minutes and days of avoiding him.

Time went exactly where she put it. As it always had. As it always would.

She hadn't meant for it to happen. Something just. _Changed_. One minute he was her little brother and the next he was this bright eyed boy that stood an inch taller than her, who couldn't wait to be in high school with her. And she'd gotten. Well, frightened. It was all happening too fast. So fast she hadn't noticed when her little brother ceased to be little. And then, by her own devices, she'd made it such that he ceased to be a boy.

Where once he'd had an inch they now had become many, well over a foot. He had a beard. Their father favored goatees, but this wasn't a goatee. It was a well kept strip of hair on his sharp jaw and it made him look so, so much older than he was, such that she felt the younger of them. His shoulders had been thin and now they were broad, so broad. His eyes, too, had changed. They'd been such bright little spots of star light and now they burned with an emotion that was anything but bright. An emotion she could place but really didn't want to.

The only thing unchanged were his horns. His ultimate shame. They became what she loved most due to that very fact. That they were still such small little knobs evident of his not-terribly-latent ability. Every encounter she watched his horns so she could speak instead of cry. Such a foolish girl she was, undertaking such foolish endeavors...

Until she'd had enough. Of herself. Of not knowing him. She'd made her decision to do right by him, do right by their shared blood and make attempts to know him. Not as he was, but as he had become. She'd come home for the first time in ages... only to find that her efforts to be distant from the person she cherished so had been entirely successful. He made no attempts to speak with her, see her.

Somehow, and this was a very silly notion, but somehow she'd almost wondered if work was but a ploy to be without her - _oh but if only she could know..._ The hours without him dragged. The years without him had been an eternity. Waiting a handful for work to end shouldn't have been anything. But they were everything.

The first order of business had been alerting him to her want, no, NEED to speak with him. She wouldn't say quite yet that if she didn't apologize for herself and how very vapid she had been, she might very well die. The second had been finding out exactly how long she would suffer eternity without him. First she'd gone to their parents. And.

And it was right about then she realized that not every bit of coldness and anger imbedded in his heart was entirely her fault.

"It's too bad he had to close," a few pieces of chicken are particularly blackened. She hides her smile in a large bite of slightly burnt broccoli. Mother never _was_ a very good cook. The Cook agrees around a mouthful of food that Elsa finds terribly humorous. Father is reading the paper. He says,

"Who?"

And it gives her pause. Who else? His son, of course. The only other 'he' in the household! She shoots him an incredulous look but he doesn't glance up from his paper. She wonders if this is how dinner always goes for him. That handsome, fierce young man that's supposed to be her younger brother.

"Andre." She clarifies, resisting any urges to tack on, _"your other fucking child!"_ because she knows doubly that such language wouldn't be tolerated and that it would be least likely to change anything.

"Eh," her father finally looks up, smiling a smile that makes her feel both better and worse. "He always closes. He's just important like that." Mother snorts, very unlady-like.

"Please," she scoffs after swallowing a mouthful of food. "They work him like a slave and pay him like a beggar."

"Oh, it gives him a good work ethic, Ellie!"

"It makes him feel worthless!"

"So when is close?" They stop arguing before they can truly start, staring at her for short seconds that feel like long minutes.

"What do you mean?" It's a simple enough question isn't it? They send her the same look of confusion. She's. She's incredibly disturbed by this reaction.

"I mean what time is close?" They look at each other, then her.

"Late," Father summarizes, all smiles. "It's very late." She wants to ask if they ever stay up for him, but by their responses she already knows that they do not. So she drops him from the topic of conversation and moves on with their flow. Wondering exactly when it was that they stopped caring. Wondering if they ever even have in the first place. Wondering if it's her own fault that this all came to pass.

After dinner she tries the internet. Which proves, at first, to be quite as useful as the parents. Websites tell her they're open all night but she doubts this. They aren't a nocturnal facility and they don't exclusively employ nocturnals. She keeps searching. She finds, eventually, that the facility _does_ have it's own website. This proves fruitful and she's got her time frame. All that's left to her is waiting.

And so she waits. She tries to bide her time planning out her thoughts. Exactly what she'll say. Exactly how she'll say it. She runs through scenarios in her head logical and far fetched. Some where he accepts her with open arms and understanding. Some where he's crying and she's crying and everything is heartbreak. Some where he just won't listen, won't hear her, can't see how she's full of such sorrow. These turn and twist her stomach into angry tight little knots that make her swear she'll be sick... She finds herself retreating to the bathroom to catch her breath above the toilet bowl.

She doesn't get sick but nevertheless she feels it for hours. Because her greatest fear yet is that he won't care. That she's spent so much time frightened of this man. That she's spent so much time wallowing in her own guilt and further terrifying herself of him. That such coldness towards him, as is her very nature, that it's too late. He'll never have her. Not as a sister. Not as a friend. Not as...

She can't imagine that scenario. Nevertheless, little voices whisper little sweet nothings of despair in her mind. Insist that she's such a damned fool, she always has been and always would be. She deserves this rot, she deserves this gut full of agonizing fear. She deserves it and so much more...

But time can be a kind thing, and it passes for her slowly but surely until she's certain he should be home... But he isn't. Worry eats at her. A voracious beast with no regard for her health or sanity. Nearly in tears she types out a message to him, trying to sound calm and collected even as she feels anything but. And only after sending it does she realize that maybe she's doing too much trying too hard. Saying too much. And even jumping to take it all back might be too much.

So she thinks for a short eternity. She ponders and plans and ultimately tells him only to come to her room. Because all of everything else she could and wants to say is just. It's a lot. They've much to discuss and nerves are getting the better of her. Goodness, she nearly faints from the head rush she gets when he answers her texts at last - just to say he's on his way - and that's still only just the first thing he's said to her except for that stilted apology in the hallway earlier. She knows she's overreacting.

She's aware that she's being more than strange. She can't entirely help herself though. The longer this takes, the more unsettled she'll be. Regardless of her feelings, however, it's nearly an hour later that she hears the very soft sound of the front door opening downstairs. She almost can't believe it. She opens her door, stepping out into the hallway, flicking on the lights.

And there he stands. Three stairs down from the top of the second floor landing. His eyes are wide, sweat just glistening on his brow, mouth slightly opened. In shock, maybe. Had... Had he been hoping she would be asleep? She tries not to think about the fact that he looks all too ready to make a run for it.

"Andre," she wants to hug him. Really badly. She doesn't. His eye twitches a little, mouth clicking shut. He looks like he's thinking really hard about what to say. And then,

"Uhm, yeah?" _This fucking dork right here._ She can feel a dopey smile pulling at her face. She tells him,

"I'm glad you're home." And it's not as though she's ever been terribly big on lying... But this feels like the most truthful statement she's ever made in her whole existence.

"Uh, yeah, I was hanging out with my co-worker, Beast, but his name's Adam, but he IS a beast, in like a literal and figurative sense. But uh, and he's a Minotaur-something-or-other not that that matters but yeah he's chill. We chill, on occasion, like tonight. After work. Which we did tonight. But not every night. Tonight we'd just been PLANNING to and I didn't think you'd, ya know, miss me-"

"I always miss you." It doesn't look like he believes that entirely. That urge to cry strikes her but she swallows it. He's slower to respond.

"Uh... right. Uhm, did you wanna, uh, talk err... something? To be honest I'd really love to change outta these clothes first..." He was looking towards his door with a longing she'd never seen. Tall glass of water for a man fresh from the desert, sort of longing. She'd been standing in his way the whole time.

Oh jeez.

"O-of course yeah do that! I'm just uh," she hooks a thumb over her shoulder, wondering why she couldn't have just said she'd be waiting in her room. Wondering why this was so hard and awkward. "So when you're all, all ready and whatnot, I'll be in there." So maybe that longing of his made sense. Retreating to her room had never been so relieving before. She left the door cracked for him, sitting herself down on the edge of her bed. Deep breaths.

Ok. Now it was just a matter of conversion. Time to be brave.


	4. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk is a kind way to put it. 
> 
> Scream sounds too extreme.
> 
> More like.... like a good yelling. Yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I briefly glanced at this for mistakes, please let me know if I'm blind and dumb!

When he finally kicked off his jeans and threw off his flannel and tee, pulling on a wife beater and deciding that and his boxers would allow enough decency for a late night, random-ass sibling chat, he finally left his room and proceeded to Elsa's. The door was cracked, swinging open with the lightest tap of his knuckles. He peeked his head in. Wary.

She was sitting on the bed, and maybe he was petty and childish but some part of him was pleased that she looked just as nervous as he felt. She was chewing at her lower lip with one pointed canine, not quite breaking the skin but getting pretty close if the lovely red shade it was turning was any indication. He cleared his throat quietly as he stepped fully into the room and leaned back against the door.

"Hey," he managed to force out some sort of smile as well. He wasn't sure what it looked like. He was greeted with a tiny smile in return. Not like that one in the hall, but a smile nonetheless.

"Hi." He stepped hesitantly towards the bed, pausing to look to his sister for permission. "Oh!" She breathed quietly, scrambling back from the edge and patting the spot she'd been in "You can, uh, sit here. Or anywhere, really, uh, I just, had a few things I needed to say to you."

"Are we breaking up?" He wasn't even certain where that came from, although he could guess. _Drugs are a helluva thing._ "I can change baby, I swear!" The look on her face was one of confusion, for all of five seconds, before she seemed to realize it was a joke, his attempt to lighten the mood. She laughed, then.

"I uh," she shook her head, still chuckling. "I'm thinking otherwise. Quite the opposite in fact."

"So you... want to... s-skinship?"

"You see I-... I'm sorry, _what_ did you just say?"

"Nothin', nothin'." He took this chance to sit on the edge of her bed, back to her. _Just stop talking._

"Right," she looked uncertain but, thankfully, dropped it. "I... I owe you an... apology." Wait... _What?_ "And an explanation. But first and foremost, I really, REALLY need you to know that I love you. And I can only hope you still believe that after... after everything I've put you through..."

"Elsa-"

"No! Don't interrupt, I... I need to say this," she gathered her wits to continue while his fled in the wake of whatever the fuck was going on. He was almost certain, at this point, that this was all some hallucination or fever dream or something. "You are such a wonderful person, and a lovely brother... And I'm sorry our own parents don't appreciate it as they should either, that feels like my fault as well, it probably is..."

"Don't blame yourself," he began by turning around to face her, expression grave. _Even though it IS your fault..._ "How can anyone help who the favorite is? I'm-I'm not... _starving_ for attention or whatever you seem to fear. I'm fine. It's fine. _We're fine!_ I don't... what I mean is that you don't have to do this. It isn't necessary. I-"

"But I _want_ to say it. I want to tell you how important you are. And how I know you'll be doing bigger and better things than the rest of us. And-and don't ever let anyone tell you what you are and are not capable of!" She was staring at his horns now. And as she rambled on, getting flushed with excitement, growing steadily louder - though for the soft-spoken blonde it was still hardly loud at all - less and less did her eyes meet his, she was losing her train of thought it was quite obvious, when suddenly, "And I, for one, love your horns!"

It was so absurd, so, so laughably untrue, he started giggling. Okay, so maybe he'd even started to believe this wasn't a fever dream, as he didn't feel very hot or whatnot. But now he at last knew, for a fact, that he was hallucinating. Or, or even... He wouldn't put it past her to...

"You're lying." He wasn't even angry about it. It was funny, because he hadn't realized she had a humor, and even if it was at his expense... it was still funny, because she was the one making the joke. And that in itself seemed so ridiculous he couldn't help it. He was laughing. He was laughing his ass off. "You, you, you're LYING!"

"Excuse me?" She was soft spoken, but if he hadn't been trying to catch his breath he wouldn't have even heard her. His ears twitched, the hairs on the back of his neck raising. He could feel the energy in the air, like an electric charge. It made his skin tingle. That amusement fled. Scowling, brows furrowed as his breath became visible.

"Are you... are you getting angry right now? _Seriously?_ "

"You're calling me a liar to my face. And laughing. That ISN'T funny, I'm not, I wouldn't..."

"You wouldn't _what!?_ You wouldn't _lie_ to me, right? That's what you're going to say, isn't it?" She remained silent, cheeks flushing with what was either embarrassment or a growing fury that he felt in the dropping temperature. "No you wouldn't lie to me; no, no you wouldn't do that, you'll just run off to bum fuck ANYWHERE but HERE, right? Is that right?"

"You just don't understand!" He should be alarmed that it was starting to snow. He should be alarmed that she was starting to raise her voice. But he was getting worked up. Anger burned like acid through his veins.

"Then MAKE me understand! You've avoided me for FOUR FUCKING YEARS! You're fucking right I don't understand!" He stood from the bed. Subconsciously, he reached up, gripping his horns as he began pacing. "What am I supposed to think? W-wh... my horns don't grow in, a-and suddenly a three year age gap is so huge, I'm SO immature that you couldn't even talk to me about whatever your grievances were." He finally stopped, spinning on his heel to face her, glaring heatedly. She was looking down, hands shaking in her lap. "Am I beneath you, is that it? I'm just still fucking pathetic, so wretched and lowly is your shame of a brother you don't even LOOK AT MY FACE!"

"IT'S NOT! ABOUT! YOU'RE FUCKING HORNS!" A blast of icy wind tossed him back. And he suspected, had ice not crept over the walls and door, he very well could have damaged the house, and woken their parents. In no particular order. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her teeth looked bigger, eyes glowing. "Why is it always about them? They don't matter-"

"They do to everyone else!"

"WHO CARES!? It's so stupid... it's not about that, it's never been about that."

"Then what _is_ it about? Why with this... what happened?" In a small voice, "What'd I _do?_ " It struck a nerve, if her flinch was anything to go by.

"You didn't- it's not-I, I was..." While she struggled for words, he calmed his still hammering heart. Her distress was still affecting the environment, and as his own energy cooled, so too did his temperature. The cold was piercing, painful, and sudden.

"H-h-holy sh- _shit!_ " He jumped on the bed, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over his head and shoulders. Elsa lost her train of thought, snapping back to attention. Realizing the cold, she sucked in a sharp breath. Gasping quietly she said only,

" _Oh!_ "

Closing her eyes and breathing out, with a bit of concentration and a wave of her hands the temperature began returning, slowly, to a more reasonable degree. The ice, though, would take time to melt.

_Great._

Andy could only stand the awkward silence and cold for so long before his patience wore thin again.

"Fuck this," He turned to face her and without any warning pulled her to him, wrapping the blanket and his arms around her. With a sigh he let his head drop to her shoulder, pulling her closer still and settling her into his lap comfortably. Something he recalled from his childhood was having nightmares, and running to her room for comfort. She was always surprisingly warm.

It was still the same. He'd half expected her to feel like an ice cube. Thinking, perhaps she'd grown cold literally as well as figuratively. But it hadn't changed. Her soothing, strange heat was present. And still so comforting, calming. He could go to sleep. Just like this.

Oddly, she spoke first, "That wasn't how I expected that conversation to go." He couldn't help the snort of laughter. Rolling his eyes, he lifted his head, just to let his chin rest on her shoulder.

"No kidding."

"... can we start that over?" He chuckled lowly, but shook his head.

"Maybe it's best we just let that one die."

"No, I mean... okay, this is going to sound like a strange request, but..."

"But?" He prompted when she failed to continue.

"Can we just start over? There's... so much, so much I've missed, things I want to make up for... And its childish, it's unfair to ask this of you. But can we start over completely?"

The thought struck him once more, _like strangers._ But as he considered it, in this light, that maybe that was a good thing. Treating her with the basic respect he would every other person he approached, instead of the jaded embittered snark he wanted to, that might actually prove to _help_ their relationship.

"So like, the last four years just didn't happen?" She nodded. He drew back enough to allow her the room to twist her head around and meet his eyes.

_She's serious..._

"Exactly that."

"So," he wasn't entirely certain why he had to keep clarifying this. But he. He couldn't rationalize this. Strange request, she'd said. Unfair. Childish. "Like. Like strangers." She flinched. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He'd known she wouldn't like the wording. Regardless, she nodded sharply.

"Yes, basically."

The treatment he'd received in the past, the treatment she was asking him to ignore, cast aside, _forget,_ it should have wizened him to this. He should say no. He should stop hugging her for warmth because he felt fine now and the ice was mostly gone. He should still be mad. She should still be mad. And crying. This was fucked up somehow, wasn't it? That chance, that very likely chance that this would go terribly wrong and she'd do something stupid like run off again should scare him straight.

But his mouth didn't get the warning his brain was sending out. Without permission, his response burst forth in, "Okay." She probably looked just as surprised as he did.

"Okay?"

Given the second chance, he wanted to change his mind, tell her no, ask her beg her for a reason to even bother trusting her. But he nodded and smiled, repeating, "Okay!" With a bit more conviction. And this was pathetic, wasn't it? They couldn't talk without arguing so they ignored the trouble to move on.

_It sounds like a bad marriage._

"Thank you," she squirmed in his arms, turning around and throwing her arms around his neck.

_For what?!_ He wanted to ask her, incredulously. But what he said was, "Um, yeah."


	5. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what if he lied? Not like they noticed, and if they did they didn't care, and they could claim that they cared but they definitely weren't stopping him were they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus marks the end of everything I have written from three years ago. Everything from here on out is from an older, embittered self. So. Be prepared n shit.

His arm was numb. And of every day for it to be bright and beautiful, today it appeared would be especially so. Or at least, the slash of sunlight currently stabbing him in the eyes attested to that fact. But his arm was numb so he couldn't throw it over his face, and his body was weighed down by a mysterious force such that he couldn't even turn over. His eyes could not combat the sun long enough to see what was going on, what held him fast.

But as his slowly awakening arm twitched, body moving, he heard, _felt_ a groan. From the body half on top of his own. From his sister. This was Elsa's room. His sister's room.

_Err, wait no, that's incorrect._

She was supposed to be just his _friend_ now. Which was odd, he supposed, one didn't usually sleep all content and curled up in the same bed as their new friend. Did they? And for that matter they'd hardly clarified that friend thing, that was just a nice way to put it. He felt more comfortable pretending it was a friendship, because it seemed pretty weird to be sleeping with a stranger.

_It's probably weird._

But he'd go with it. Though it wasn't like he really had a choice. She _was_ laying all over him, and there was absolutely no way he could slip out from under her and run for his own room, or head for the hills and into the nearest forest and become one of those wild Hellions others liked to call Devils. He was still considering it, it just wasn't the most viable option.

_But maybe, if I'm careful..._

Another soft groan vibrated against his chest, then Elsa shifted. It was some odd instinct that held him fast, eyes wide open and staring down at the top of her head. Would she remember last night? Would-would she take it all back, wake screaming and confused? Would she-

"Good morning," Sleepy blue eyes blinked slowly up at him, a tired genuine smile tossed his way before she shifted, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Even she seemed surprised by the affectionate gesture, drawing back with ruddy cheeks and wide eyes. He chuckled, ruffling her slightly tousled hair. He knew his was a wild mess, as it always was whenever he first got up, so this was his way to even the playing field. Plus it might have the added benefit of making her less embarrassed. "QUIT IT YOU DICK!"

He stopped mostly because of what she'd said, and partly because she had shoved him in the face to push herself away from him. And apparently she snapped necks on a daily basis, because she'd almost snapped his. He was laughing, though, as he relented and let her be. She was pouting. She hadn't found it funny.

"Jerk!"

But that only made him laugh harder, until she chased him away with angry swinging fists. He crawled back, stopping only after he managed to fall over the edge of the bed, softening the blow for his body by going head first.

_Okay, um, ow._

"Waking up to a concussion," he groaned as he sat up slowly, gingerly probing the tender spot on the back of his skull with his fingers. "Lovely." He fully expected long winded apologies, begs for forgiveness. The look in her eyes as she peered over the edge of the bed suggested as such, and more. Then she smirked.

"Serves you right," she stuck her tongue out at him. And he wanted to be offended, he did. But laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. Somehow, somehow it figured he was friends with a bunch of rude ass holes and sassy bitches. His sister included.

"This'll be a beautiful friendship. And hey!" He grinned as he shifted onto his knees, elbows planted on the edge of the bed he leaned against it and closer to Elsa. "You can buy me alcohol! How bout it, new best friend?"

"Why does this feel like I'm being used for my age...?"

"Because you are."

"Well you're honest," she was smiling, chuckling.

"And I can make pretty delicious popcorn."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just one of my many talents. You should be honored we're friends."

"Trust me," There it was again, that smile that took control of her whole face, made her eyes sparkle. "I am." And this was easy, wasn't it? It felt natural. It felt good, right. And in this moment he was happy that he'd allowed this to be, that he'd given her just one last shot.

_And yet..._

"You working again today?" He blinked, brought from his thoughts before they could spiral away from this moment. He wasn't scheduled to work today, that much he knew for certain. He also assumed that, and knowing Adam as well as he did, both he and Meg had probably already conspired to keep him off the schedule for the rest of the weekend.

"I am actually not so sure about that," he admitted with a sheepish grin. Which was a lie, not that she would know. They weren't good enough _friends_ for her to be able to tell that.

_Mmm, is-is that bitterness I taste?_

"Boo," she pouted. "That's no fun at all. You WILL be spending the day with me, then. I want my Andre time!" He winced. Sitting back on his haunches, he cleared his throat and began hesitantly,

"I uh, m-most people, _friends_ , call me Andy..." And although her expression didn't change much her cheeks tinted a pretty pink.

"R-right." She nodded, serious. "Andy."

The thrill of hearing her say it was unexpected, but he grinned and shrugged it off, exaggerating his joy with two thumbs up.

"Thaaaat's RIGHT! Good job kid, we'll get this friendship thing down to a science! You and me, we and us, we're going places, love."

Smiling, "Oh, are we?"

"Oh yes, yes indeedy we are! Strange places, magical places, boring and normal places! DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE LIBRARY!?" She started laughing. Like, falling back on the bed clutching at her sides, _snorting_ with laughter sort of laughing.

"You're so," she was trying to breathe, but her mirth was making it nigh impossible. "WEIRD!" And that wasn't a bad thing in the least.

"You love it," he sneered, playfully.

"I do." She flicked his nose, returning the sneer. "Dork."

" _Elsa!_ " Frantic knocking on the door followed the call of her name, before the door knob twisted and the door started to open. But slowly, as if their father feared she might be indecent. "Have you seen-" Andy and Elsa glanced at each other before looking back to their father. Andy waved (nervously), smiling at the elder blonde man. "Oh. Well there you are!"

"Yup," he popped the p, gesturing to himself, "Here I am." He wondered if Elsa noticed the change in his demeanor. He did, it unnerved him but it was an automatic response he kinda had no control over. It wasn't dad's fault they weren't close... But nevertheless, conversation with him had been almost as futile as conversing with Elsa. Not like strangers, more like, he just... like his eyes were detached and sometimes cold, so that every time he spoke to Andy, it felt incredibly disingenuous.

"You kids want breakfast?"

_Okay, I've been surviving off of soup and sandwiches for a hot minute, what's with the cooking!?_

"Yes! Please," Elsa's hand on his shoulder drew his eyes back to her face, his head tipping back to find it. He smiled. "I'm starved."

"Eh" he finally bothered to respond, still smiling up at Elsa. She noticed him looking up at her, tilted her head down and smiled back. "I could eat."

"Super!" He glanced down his nose at his father, smile wilting slightly. "Well it's ready when you are, so just come on down and get some." Elsa's smile remained for as long as the door was open. And then she frowned down at him.

"What was that about?" Either of her hands settled on the sides of his face, keeping his face titled back. Keeping him from running.

"I don't know what you're talking about," and even as he spat the lie, cutting his eyes away from hers, he could tell by her expression she wasn't buying it. But, surprisingly, she only let out a soft breath - _did... did she just huff at me?_ \- and shrugged it off. Stroking her fingers softly over his scruffy jaw she said only,

"Ok." And then she released her hold on his face. She was quick to climb out of bed, stretching her arms up above her head. She'd kicked off her pajama pants in the night, it seemed. The flash of ( _lacy?_ ) underwear revealed as her shirt rode up with her stretch made it impossible to assume otherwise.

"WELL, I dunno bout you but I'm STARVING!" He was at her door in a blink, chuckling, staring only forward and pulling the door open even as she was beginning to try speaking. "See ya at breakfast!"

_Creeping on your sister, nice._

Although in all fairness, and from a purely scientific standpoint, Elsa was a magnificent specimen, really, the perfect amalgamation of genes. Beauty, intelligence, grace, excellent control over her not insignificant energy... Her horns had even grown bigger! It was... really unfair.

"Why aren't I pretty?" The hand he was shoving through his hair caught on a horn. He frowned. "Or big...?" With a sigh he trudged over to his room, deciding that for this momentous occasion of rare breakfast he would actually dress himself for it. Kinda. He pulled on the jeans from last night. "Ta-da."

He almost tripped down the stairs he was taking them so quickly, and whipping around the corner into the kitchen he grinned at his mother as she attempted to flip a pancake. The as of yet uncooked side smeared on the counter where it landed.

"Shit," she hissed, and he laughed. "OH!" Her eyes met his as he ventured over to her. "Andy you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Mmhmm. I bet; so you know there are easier ways to burn the house down, right?" She glared at his wide grin. And he continued, holding his hands up before him, "I know, I know, you can cook if you want to! All I'm saying, ma, is just 'cause I want to fly doesn't mean I should jump off the roof." When she smacked his shoulder none too gently and turned back to the breakfast she was attempting, he started to laugh again.

"What's so funny?" His father stepped into the kitchen. Andy assumed he'd been kicking back on the couch. He could hear the news on in the living room. He managed to be smooth in his transition from amusement to a sort of somber attitude this time, keeping his small smile but aiming it at his mother.

"Just giving arson tips," When he glanced at his father, the elder male was smiling at him. HIM!

"For free? Why, my boy, you could be striking a deal with her! Information that valuable can't just be given away freely!"

"Not so sure making a deal would help," he half-mumbled, glancing back to his mother, concentrating on flipping another pancake. "She can barely help herself..."

"Hey!" Even as she scowled at him, flipping her pancake... it missed the pan completely and splattered batter in her apron.

"... you helped her make the stir fry last night."

"Yeaaaa."

"Figures." Another round of amusement at her expense ended only once she threatened to ground her son and kick her husband out of the bed room. Father appeased her by retreating back to the living room. Andy took over finishing up breakfast.

"I thought it was ready," Elsa appeared around the corner, and he just managed to resist the urge to flinch and send another half-cooked pancake to an early grave. "Don't you look like the regular homemaker?"

"Yes I do, and yes it is, no thanks to you," he sneered at her. That same sneer from before, all in jest. She stuck her tongue out at him, and when she moved closer to where he was finishing up an incredible stack of pancakes, she stole a piece of bacon from the plate next to the stack. "Hey!"

She didn't respond, or she did, but by shoving the whole piece in her mouth.

"Hey piggie, that's called cannibalism," She started choking on the bacon then, and while he was worried and alarmed, he could also tell she was amused and probably laughing. So he let her catch her breath, finishing the last pancake, and once she had, she was snorting with laughter again. Had to sit down.

"You," she took a deep breath, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes. "Are such an ass hole."

"Elsa!" Their mother chose that exact moment to enter the kitchen, and Elsa's head whipped around so fast. He heard her neck pop. But their mother seemed more amused than angry. Not that Elsa noticed.

"I can't believe you," their mother continued, "He's much more of douche bag." His mouth dropped open and for what had to be a record breaking moment, Elsa broke into that snorting laughter _again_.

"M-" shock trembled his lips, " _MOM!_ "

"I swear I miss all the fun," borrowed amusement brought their patriarch chuckling into the room. Glancing coolly at his father he replied,

"Not really," and threw a petulant glare towards his mother and Elsa at the renewed sound of laughter. The sort aimed at him. "You remember who's making you breakfast right now." He huffed and they only laughed more. Grumbling, he turned back to the pan in time to save a cake from most certain doom at the hands of a burnt exterior.

This last one he slid onto the wobbling stack of pancakes and called to them, "Come and get it!" wishing he had a bell to ring.

_Although that might just be for dinner..._

Not as though that mattered to them though. They rushed him so quickly it took him a few seconds to further his wits and realize that they'd left him three pancakes. And one piece of bacon.

How rude. He didn't hesitate to tell his family exactly how much they sucked.

"I'm never making breakfast for you ingrates ever again," he grumbled, hunching over his plate, standing at the counter to eat, too petulant to want to sit with them. Never mind he'd have to sit next to his father. Elsa stood to grab some juice, passing by him she bumped her hip into his. He stuck his tongue out at her, she did the same. When he looked back to his plate, his bacon was gone. He resisted the urge to curse.

Elsa's laughter was only loud enough to be heard over the sound of her positively inhaling his bacon.

"May you choke on it," he hissed, head whipping around to shoot a glare into her shaking shoulders as she stifled further amusement at his expense.

"How was work last night?" His head whipped right back around. His mother was smiling at him. Father was. Well he was watching the television that was still running in the other room from his seat at the table, head craning to catch the program of the day. He shrugged,

"Meh. More of the same. Dull, tedious, and sweaty. I feel gross. I'm tired."

"Did you bathe when you got home?" He expertly evaded his mother's knowing gaze, staring at the wood grain of the cabinets where the coffee cups were kept. His favorite was covered in Hellhounds of ridiculous colors. It's handle had broken once but he'd fixed it, too sentimental to just give it up. "Child of mine, you are _nasty_."

Elsa was passing him by, cup of juice in hand, she leaned over to tell him in a dramatic whisper,

" _EW!_ "

He snorted, rolling his eyes. She giggled.

_This is how it's supposed to be. Like breathing._

"So do you work again today?" His smile twitched. Fell into a carefully constructed, very-nearly-sincerely sour frown.

"I'm on call," _Liar._ "So we'll see."

"That's too bad," his father finally joined the conversation, smiling.

_Smiling. Fucking smiling. Ass hole._

"I was hoping you and Elsa might spend the day together!"

"Not that I'm opposed," he was looking at Elsa, trying to smile. It was a bit tight. Strained. "But why?"

"Well," their patriarch began, chuckling. Elsa was watching Andy as well, concern furrowed her brows, she mouthed, _'Are you ok?'_ A minute nod and continued strained smile were her answer. "I was hoping for some alone time with your mother."

_So what you're trying to say is that you took time off from work, for your favorite child, just as an excuse to fuck your wife?_

Maybe he'd eventually get tired of snorting and rolling his eyes. Maybe he should change it up for grunting and blinking. Maybe maybe maybe.

"Pervert," he grumbles mostly to himself, but definitely loud enough to be heard. He stands, plate in hand, last pancake a soggy mush that he dumps into the trashcan. He washes his plate out in the sink, wipes his hands on jeans and faces his family with his hands planted on his hips. "Elsa dear, I'd be delighted to spend the whole day with you, or at least as much of it as I can. But right now I've got a long, hot date with a shower. Let's reconvene in my room, yeah?"

She smiles and nods at him. He returns the gesture. His eyes pan over to a flushed mother quietly scolding an embarrassed patriarch. They don't pay him mind. His tight smile slips.

_Whatever. I don't care._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive mistakes or point them out please!


	6. Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out his mind might be the most damned annoying thing in existence. 
> 
> On the bright side, sometimes it does come up with good ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came back from a day at the lake when I started writing the last half of this, can you tell??? 
> 
>  
> 
> Also i did read over it for mistakes - for once! - but if i missed anything, lemme know y'all! Anyways, I present another filthy piece of trash for your entertainment. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Halfway through his shower, hazy mind floating through random streams of thought, in his mind's eye is conjured the image of ivory skin and lacy underwear. Red, like his hair. He nearly chokes. He attempts to beat it out of his brain with the meat of his palms when the image persists, feeling an almost irrational sense of fear at the image. Queasy, he realizes, it makes him queasy and nauseous

_It's not like it's terribly looked down on,_ a little voice argued in dangerous, seductive whispers. _It's just not seen so much anymore_.

He had never slapped himself before, but hey! First time for everything, right? Further punishment followed as he turned the water colder than ice. So cold it hurt in the quite sudden contrast. But it worked. The pain of chill drove all thoughts of fiery red anything from his mind's eye...

The panties turned blue.

_Are you fucking kidding me!?_

"What the literal fuck," he forced his mind down different avenues, squeezing his eyes shut as he viciously scrubbed his hair. So maybe he spent too much time just standing, lethargic beneath the spray of hot water. Too much time on his hands and too many bitter thoughts and too many different pairs of- "SON OF A WHORE!" Eyes squeezed shut and grasping desperately for the soap, he instead clenched his hand around the head of a disposable razor. "Fucking CUNTS! Balls!"

_Probably the dumbest thing you've ever done, stupid fuck_.

"Oh shut up," he spat at himself, blinking water out of his eyes and staring at the three perfectly symmetrical lines in the webbing between his thumb and pointer. As he watched, blood rushed to the surface, bubbling up and squeezing itself through every crevice of flesh as he clenched his hand into a fist and stuck it under the shower head. Dark red raced down his arm, diluting before it could reach his torso, flowing off his hand and the bend of his elbow in discolored torrents of dark pink that returned to a semblance of maroon as it circled the drain.

Hissing in pain as the water crept beneath the flaps of skin and into the wounds, he drew his hand back and clutched it to his chest, grabbing the soap and furiously scrubbing his body as quickly as possible with only one hand. His other hand was last to touch any soapy goodness, he bit out curses the entire time. It's as he turns off the water that two things happen. First is that Elsa knocks on the door, and he knows it's Elsa because directly following rhythmic taps comes her voice,

"Are you ok Andy?"

The second thing that happens is he thinks, again, of that lacy underwear.

"Fine," his voice sounds terribly hoarse. He clears his throat, "I'm fine. I may or may not be stupid beyond all reason, but fine." He thinks -hopes - she'll leave.

" ...If you're sure?"

"I am!" His voice cracked. Fucking damnit. He could sense her hesitation, could see her behind the door with her concerned frowns and uncertain eyes.

_(Lingerie.)_

Ok, he could die now. Any moment would be fine. Stick a fork in him. Obviously the razor missed.

She walks away and a breath he didn't realize he was holding bursts out of him. He sucks in a few more deep breaths to calm himself, then sets about wrapping his hand with some gauze he kept under the sink. Once that task is completed, he towel dries his hair and wraps the towel around his waist, leaving the bathroom for his sanctuary. He had enough time to drop his clothes into the hamper, pull on boxers and get one leg into a pair of jeans before once more, rhythmic knocking sounds at the door. He almost face plants in his haste to force his leg into the jeans. He may have popped a seam.

"Enter!" He calls, buttoning the jeans with his back to the door. Enter. Enter? Did that sound weird? It sounded weird to him. Of all the things, why did he choose the one that made him sound stupid? He would have time for that later. He turned with a wide grin.

It fell.

His dad was there.

_SO done._

"Son," he hated that word. His father always started with it, like it would soften everything he'd say next. "That type of language is unacceptable under my roof and I don't want to hear it again, you understand?"

_Fucking eat my cock._

"Yes sir."

"Right then!" _Fucking ass hole, stop smiling at me._ "Enjoy your day with Elsa!"

He hummed. He couldn't smile, he'd start saying _unacceptable_ things if he opened his mouth to speak. So he hummed and dipped his head in a nod. When the door closed he lifted his hands, middle fingers held high for all of. Well, him, to see. He deflated shortly afterwards. He didn't even _ask_ what could have happened to bring about language so colorful.

_I literally spoke two words to him, and he's not even bothered by that._

He took a seat on his bed, arms braced against his knees, head in his hands. Sullen. Somber. When had everything gotten so fucked? Had it always been like this and he'd just been oblivious until Elsa was gone to take the attention away from her? Was it all in his head and he was just making up reasons to be bitter?

A warm body slithered up behind his, arms snaking over his shoulders. One of the hands - the one attached to her left arm, in fact - traces the bandages against the back of his hand.

"You lied to me," she accuses softly. He twitches, wanting to pull out of her embrace... But enjoying the comfort entirely too much. So he just sighs and moves the hand she won't stop stroking, offering his palm. She threads her fingers through his. At least for a solid squeeze, then he pulls himself from her, standing. That grin he'd been ready to give her is back on his face, and he offers it as he turns around.

"I'm fine," he tells her, showing his neatly bandaged hand. "I just grabbing the business end of a razor when I had soap in my eyes," _(and lacy underwear on the mind),_ "So I really am fine."

"I'm not talking about your hand."

His breaths stutter. The grin almost falls.

"So whatcha wanna do today?" He even manages to keep his voice level. She watches him. And there's something in her eyes that's. It. It angers him. He forces his grin to grow wider, knowing his teeth are probably growing, because they ache. _Drop it,_ the smile screams, _Just fucking drop it._

And she does.

"Ok! So my university is way up in the boonies, right? So I'm like, SURROUNDED by nature at every turn. And this feels silly and dumb, but all that nature make me MISS our park, so... can we?" It rushes out of her quick enough to give him whiplash.

"Um, dude, fuck yes! We could-" he pauses for the span of a breath, stumbling over the urge to say that they could get stoned as fuck. _Not certain if she chill yet._ "-walk?"

She giggles, nodding.

"And have a picnic!"

"We just ate breakfast..."

" _I_ ate breakfast, _You_ pretended to."

"Oh yeah, you did eat breakfast, mine and yours!" She waves that off.

"Whatever, regardless, we should have a picnic."

"Just remember no tongue on the first date," a dusting of pink hid her light freckles, he resisted the urge to coo at her. No telling if that'd get him smacked.

"I thought it was no sex on the first date," _Holy shit she's playing along._

"Well, don't _we_ move fast?"

"No I'm just not a prude."

They stare at each other for a long moment. He cracks first, a grin curling his mouth from its stern set as he starts laughing. First quietly and then from his gut, and then with his body shaking until he falls back beside her on his bed. She's snorting. Whatever he'd done to please whatever Celestial Being is gracing him continuously with Elsa's uncontrollably snorting laughter, he's damn thankful.

_You go sober self!... or high self!... Or whatever self appeased those powerful folk that sometimes meddle in our affairs!_

"I love you," it comes after their amusement dies down. He turns his head in time to see her hand before it weaves through his hair. And he'd been ready to deliver some sarcastic quip about them being strangers and, _"baby take me to dinner first!",_ but at the scrape of her blunt nails on his scalp the words die on his tongue. Instead, a low hum vibrates in his throat. Practically purring like a particularly pleased feline.

Later, he'd think back on that line and marvel, chuckle, thinking only, _Say that six times fast._

Unfortunately, his brain is too overloaded for such heavy processing. So he hums and sighs and leans his head into her efforts, earning the grace of her second hand joining the first. His groans became audible. His eyes slip closed.

_Silk and lace._

He tries not to jerk away from her. Convincing himself that it's not as if she can read his thoughts. Because she can't; that's a rare ability, it's genetic, and none in their family have it. Nevertheless, his face warms, eyes fluttering open. She's smiling down at him like. Like he's the most important thing in the universe. Even though he'd just imagined her in her sextastic lacy underwear and in particular he feels like filth for it.

"So about that picnic...?" She continues to smile, though her expression does turn a bit rueful.

"Right right," she agrees with a nod, though she doesn't immediately pull her hands from his scalp. Not that he's complaining. "I should let you finish getting ready. I should get ready myself."

He felt like he could go back to bed.

"Yeah," he agreed lowly. And then, as an after thought he directed his sleepy gaze up to hers as she leaned over him. "I love you too."

_She's even prettier when she's blushing._

He found the strength to sit up, pulling them out of... Whatever the fuck that even was. He coughed, scratching at his chin, wondering in a quiet, easy-to-ignore part of his mind why his own face felt warm.

"Anyway, I need more clothes and you can't go to the park in your sleepwear. So get!" She laughed, rolling off his bed.

"Fine fine," she struck a fine power stance with her fists planted on her hips, chin tilted to stare down her nose at him. "I leave you in charge of the vittles, sir."

"Of course you do," he rolled his eyes when she just giggled, grinning an entirely too pleased grin before she waved and dipped out of his room. He rolled over and stuffed his face against a pillow, groaning. Considering this was going to be one of those beautiful, rare Fridays that he miraculously had off from both school and his Hell away from a significantly worse Hell, he was already feeling terribly drained and ready for it all to be over.

Sighing and muttering, mostly deprecating things about himself, he rolled back over and pushed himself up. First things first, it was too fucking hot outside to even consider wearing jeans. Spring was already a humid heat storm the likes of which foreshadowed an epic summer of suffering and sweat. Basketball shorts might help, but even then it'd be hot, with or without any sort of shirt.

_Hmmmm it's WAY too fucking hot, maybe we don't HAVE to go to our park..._

"Shit, that would be WAY better," he moved towards the door, out into the second floor landing. "That would be perfect, gotta tell Elsie, she'll flip." Despite the inconvenience of sharing a bathroom, in this instance it was great to be just across the hall. He was knocking on her door, twisting the knob at the same time to push in, "Dude! So I have a great idea we should-"

_Oh. Oh my fuck._

"ANDRE-ANDY-YOU-" A half frozen pillow hit him square in the face. "GET. OUT!" He didn't so much as scramble to leave as he did stumble out and on his ass, staring in a state of mute horror. The blush of Elsa's face was spreading down her neck and he could see that. He could see quite a lot of that. "Jerk!" He couldn't tell who was more mortified. He would guess her. In fact, yah, no, totally her all her oh wow she was going to kill him. "Holy crap, can you PUH-LEASE close the fucking door!?"

"Uh, I I didn't, y-yeah sure!" He crab-walked as quickly and gracefully as he could to fumble the door closed, leaning against the wall next to it afterwards. Eyes wide, breaths coming just a tic too fast for comfort. The door shuddered slightly, he jerked his head towards it. The crack at the bottom showed a shadow. He waited, anxious, wanting to confirm that it was she sitting against the door and hadn't just thrown another pillow. Wanting to apologize. _Wanting_.

There was nothing for a long time.

And then,

" _Did you see anything?_ " It was so quiet, if he hadn't been holding his breath waiting for it, he might have missed the question.

_Oh you mean besides your cleavage for decades or your legs for years or the fact I'm pretty sure you have a six pack like what even do you lift bro?_

He says,

"No." And it comes out as a croak. It sounds almost like a lie. Not that it is, because sure he'd seen some leg, like all of the leg. And yeah a flash of her cleavage but she was an impeccable specimen of woman, her incredible instinct to clutch a shirt to her chest to preserve her modesty reacted immediately to his own stupid, _rude_ intrusions. "So uh, now that I've got you here, I was wondering if you wanted to drive up to the lake?"

She made a noise that was at least some part of that snort of laughter he was finding himself awfully inclined towards, also a sigh and possibly a grunt. Not sure what the sound means, he continues,

"It's just. Ya know, it's blistering out there and I just thought, maybe if ya aren't too dead set on the park..."

"... And we could still hike some trails and have our picnic," she says following another short eternity of silence.

"Exactly and if we hiked all the way to the top we could-" _do NOT say smoke a bowl._ "We could, uhh, s-sit on the edge of the mountain?"

"That sounds nice," she sighed, and he could almost see the smile she'd be wearing. "Ok, I'm game."

"Great! Good, awesome. Ok, I gotta go finish getting ready. Bring a change of clothes, of course, and a good pair of shoes for hiking."

"Gotcha! Oh and," he paused from pushing himself up off the floor, glancing at the door as he waited for her to speak. "Next time you WAIT for me to answer the door, you got me?"

He was uncomfortably warm in the face as he finished standing from his crouch, nodding in answer for half a sec before realizing she couldn't see him through the _door._

_Seriously can I get dumber?_

"Y-yeah, I got you."

* * *

Finding his swim trunks was quickly becoming an ordeal. They weren't in his closet, he'd searched frantically through his drawers, he'd looked in the old clear bin he kept under his bed - despite that bin didn't hold any clothing - and he was coming up empty. In fact the last time he'd seen them he-

"Ah hah! Of course how could I be so foolish?" He swiped his phone from the nightstand where he left it to charge, unlocking the device and pulling up a new message.

_Yo yo, did I happen to leave my trunks the last time we had a midnight swim?_

He hardly has to wait before his phone is chirping in his hands.

_ Tryina come 4 a midday swim? _

He chuckles, grinning.

_ Not quite _

_ Boo hiss _

_ Dude for serious i need that shit _

Waiting for the next response was a tense affair. He perched on the edge of his bed, eyes devouring every inch of the screen, waiting for anything to change.

"Hey dork!" He flinched forward, phone falling from his fumbling hands as he attempted to keep from sprawling into the floor. He glared over his shoulder at the giggling blonde sitting right behind him.

"Stop doing that!" Seriously, how was she so quiet?!

"Whoops," it wasn't apologetic, and she didn't seem too keen on apologizing. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"Ah well I may or may not have left my swim trunks with my friend-"

"Adam?" He almost asked how she knew. Only just remembering that was the only friend he'd mentioned to her last night.

"Yeah, he's kinda being-"

His phone chirped and buzzed against the carpeted floor. Their heads swiveled to watch it. Before he could even move to get off the bed, Elsa had gripped his shoulder and used it to launch herself past him, shoving him back in the same motion. She swiped the phone from the floor, and before he could warn that it was locked, she was easily unlocking it.

"How did you-"

"Shhhhh! I'm making magic happen."

He scowled at her, but she didn't notice. Too busy fucking around _his_ phone.

"What are you-"

"There!" She looked awfully proud of herself, as she, presumably, sent off whatever message she'd been so frantically typing out. She stood up then, shoving _his_ phone into the back left pocket of the shorts she was wearing. "Ok little brother, you get dressed and I'll go take care of lunch!"

"But I thought-"

"Shh! Don't question my logic!"

"Oh of course, your majesty. How could I _ever_!?" But on the serious, they needed to have a nice long chat about all this interrupting him shit. It wasn't appreciated in the least.

"We'll just never know. Anyway, get dressed, I'll be in the kitchen when you're done. You can have your phone back then."

"You're quite bossy."

"I liked it more when you called me majesty."

"Go make food, _your majesty,_ " he stood to bend at the waist and present the slightly ajar door with a grand flourish. He waited until her giggles drifted down the stairs before letting out a hiss, " _Bitch took my fucking phone!_ "

Who the fuck was SHE to just swipe HIS phone!? She was just getting to know him. How did she even guess his password? She-

_What if she sees the texts from last night? What was it...? Ah yes, agreeing to getting FUCKED UP after work right?_

He certainly popped a seam pulling the jeans from his legs, kicking them into his dresser. A black pair of shorts and a green beater saw him out of the room and running down the stairs. He almost bowled Elsa over in his mad dash into the kitchen, crushing a hand between her and the counter as he fumbled to save them both from a tumble into the floor. Biting back a pained groan, he pulled himself from her, extracting his hand with a low hiss and a shake of the wrist.

"Uh-"

"I wanted to tell you no mayo," he said, flexing his only slightly crushed fingers. "Also I want my phone back."

"Can do on the mayo, but it's a no on the phone." The air between them heated momentarily. He took a deep breath and blew it out, cooling down significantly and fixing her a strained smile.

"Why?" She started reaching for him, his face maybe, but her hand hadn't made it halfway to her chest before twitching and falling back to her side. Her mouth puckered slightly, brows furrowed over narrowed eyes.

"You really don't like when people touch your phone, do you?"

_No fucking shit._

"Kind-of an understatement, really," he shrugged, smile still straining his mouth.

"I know I promised your phone back when you came down, but hear me out... I have a surprise coming and I don't want you to ruin it for yourself."

"I could just take my phone from you. I'm pretty sure I'm stronger than you are."

"Is that an excuse to grab my butt?" He stuttered, choking on spit as he tried to assure her that that couldn't be further from the truth. Failing to assure her off anything, flustered and stammering as he was. "Dude, calm yourself it was a joke."

"Whatever," it was the first thing he could spit out. And without fucking up. Yay. "When can I have my phone back?"

At that moment, his phone buzzed and he bit back a scowl as she pulled it out of her back pocket, unlocking it and responding quickly to whatever message he'd just received with a grin. She glanced up at him as she slid it right back into that pocket she'd favored earlier, wearing that damned grin.

"In about fifteen minutes." He wanted to shout, maybe, and wanted to bitch even more. He said, and through gritted teeth,

"Alright."


	7. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were... nice. And it didn't taste like garbage admitting that, honest!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever notice how food shaped like shapes tastes better than not-shaped food?
> 
>  
> 
> I'm high. I love you all so very much. Please enjoy my trash.

He's one to hover and it's only as he begins to helicopter about her that she remembers the way he used to follow her when they were children. Eyes big and bright and trusting. Forever smiling and asking questions. And she, she was the attentive big sister. It, he, was so cute then.

It's significantly less cute now, and no matter how she tried to ignore him, he was _right behind her._ She'd thrown her hair up into a messy knot on the back of her head so she could tie the strings of her bikini top behind her neck without ripping hair out earlier, now she regrets that decision. She can feel his breath on her neck, tickling those baby hairs, making her skin break out in goose flesh.

It makes her tense, the first sandwich she makes is sloppy. She decides this one will be hers.

"Andy?" She turns her head, and he's right there. Watching her way too intensely with his fierce eyes. They're anxious at this moment, frustrated. He really wants his phone. She sends him a soft smile, not that it calms him any. "Could you grab a marker from the drawer?"

_Surely that hasn't changed... right?_

She lets out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she'd held when he moves away from her and pulls open the drawer next to the utensils, still filled with miscellaneous junk. He fishes around in there for a few seconds, muttering incomprehensible nonsense under his breath.

"Ah!" He withdraws a dark blue permanent marker, holding it triumphant above his head. His grin takes over those angry features he wears so frighteningly well, transforming him, for just a moment, back into the bright ball of happiness that haunts her childhood memories. His smiles are like that though. She likes his smiles very much.

"For you, oh lady of the sandwiches," he bows at the waist, extending an arm, his hand open with the marker jostled slightly by the movement and the uneven ridges and valleys of his cupped palm. She can't help the grin that pulls at her mouth, doesn't try to as she curtsies and takes the marker.

"Oh kind sir, I shall express my gratitude by cutting your sandwich onto triangles."

His mouth dropped open, a breathless gasp,

"Dude how did you know-"

"'The triangles make it best!' as I recall it," His eyes light. He doesn't smile though his mouth does close. She can't quite name the expression he wears or the emotions behind it, but they aren't bad. Finally he smirks and nods,

"You're damn right, girl, and don't you ever forget it."

"Never." Things are about to get weird. That odd tension that flavors their every interaction is settling over them as she swears this. He's quiet as he considers her, then goes to speak-

The door bell rings.

Moment broken, she smiles at him, asking ever so politely if he'd mind fetching that for her. It was his surprise, after all. She's spreading a smear of mustard across his bread, but sets the knife down to concentrate on him. The sounds of him fumbling with the door locks. The soft creak of hinges well used but rarely oiled. And then,

"OH HONEY!" She'd yet to meet Adam in person, but he seemed a bit of an extravagant individual just from his texts. She isn't surprised - well not really anyway - by the deep bellow, or Andy's answering yelp. "I'M HOOOOOME!" Laughter booming and rumbling not unlike angry thunder clouds was followed by another yelp and then curses from Andy. Wiping her hands on the old denim shorts she'd fished out of her closet, she moved out of the kitchen, into the hall rounding the corner and,

"Oh my," she would have to get used to such a constant barrage of joy that made her snort with laughter. It was unsettling. Had she laughed this much and this hard as a child? It was hard to remember, really. But regardless of that, she was certain she'd never seen something so funny as this.

A cooler - no doubt filled with the beer she'd totally approved him to bring - was left by the front door where an attractive human(?) was watching the events unfold with a fairly fond smile. She assumed this woman was Adam's girlfriend. She wasn't incorrect. But, Adam himself was in the middle of the sitting room next to the front entrance, Andy _slung over his shoulders_ , and spinning in circles while laughing madly. All the while, of course, to the sweet sounds of an increasingly infuriated Andy.

When he was finally set back on his feet, Andy punched Adam in the jaw, cheeks suffused with fury.

"ASS!"

"WIMP!" Adam crowed back, resisting the urge to rub his chin. That'd actually hurt. Not that he'd ever admit that. The two glared at each other for a long minute before shouting and engaging in a hug that lifted Andy off his feet for the second time in less than two minutes.

"You furry oaf, what are you doing here!?"

"You told me to come?"

"What? I didn't-" Stupidity didn't suit him but he wore it well. At least she'd like to think so. His head swung about to face a sheepish Elsa, grinning and pink in the cheeks.

"Hehe, surprise?" She fished his phone out of her back pocket, offering it to him. His grin burns brighter than the sun, he moves across the room after breaking fully away from Adam, sweeping her up into a warm hug. She nearly drops the phone when her toes can't touch the floor. He tells her in the lowest murmur,

"You're the best, you know?" And she isn't. She knows she isn't. She curls an arm around him though, saying nothing and accepting the praise. That is, of course, until he draws back from the embrace, still keeping one arm slung over her shoulders so he can face two of his favorite people. "Belly, Beast, I'd like you two to meet my beautiful beyond compare, brilliant older sister. Please feel free to applaud now."

Adam whoops and whistles, rushing forward to squeeze the life out of her. Belly(?) was slower to approach, putting a gentle hand against one of Adam's gargantuan arms to draw him away. She held out a hand for Elsa to shake.

"This is Adam," she nodded towards the grinning brute by her side. "I'm Eleanor, but all my friends call me Belle."

"Elsa," she answered, taking the offered hand for a shake. "And it's lovely to meet you both. You brought the beer, right?"

"They brought beer?" Andy turned from staring at Elsa incredulously to stare at Adam incredulously. "You brought beer!?"

"Check the cooler, Princess!" He took a moment after withdrawing from Elsa to punch Adam in the arm before moving over to the cooler. While he busied himself checking out the alcohol selection, Elsa waved the couple further into the home,

"So I'm making sandwiches, you guys have a preference for meat or condiments?"

"Not particularly," Adam shrugged, moving over to the pantry to fish out a bag of chips while Elsa finished cutting Andy's sandwich into triangles. As he opened the bag and tossed a handful of chips in his great maw, he continued, "Buf'fyu cutoff chrusts-" he swallowed the mouthful of chip. "I would be eternally grateful."

"You got it! For you, Belle?"

"Surprise me," she shrugged, smiling winningly even as she grabbed the bag of chips her boyfriend was inhaling in one hand and slapped the back of his head with the other. "I know you've got better manners than that, Adam." She scolded. He was unperturbed.

"Babe I'm hungry," he managed to smile like a goof and whine like a child simultaneously. At that exact moment, Andy appeared at Belle's opposite side, snatching the bag of chips from her.

"Yeah babe, he's hungry!" He tossed the bag over Belle's head, Adam pulling it out of the air to cradle in his arms. The brunette scowled at Andy, but it was oddly fond. Overly fond. Elsa's smile felt tight. Her mouth tasted bitter. Cutting the crusts with a vengeance. They both looked at him like that. He looked right back with the same expression

"You boys will ruin your appetites." Andy had already moved closer to Adam, reaching a hand inside the bag of chips to withdraw his own fistful. And despite the way he wilted beneath her withering glare, he still stuffed the chips into his mouth quite savagely. Belle chose that moment to slap Andy upside the head. "Thank you."

"No prob," the pretty brunette offered a smile and a nod, cutting a vicious glare to the two men as she snatched the bag of chips back. "No more noms!" She rolled the bag up, pulling a bright orange magnetic clip off the refrigerator and clipping the bag shut to toss back into the pantry. "Not until the lady of the sandwiches finishes her fine craft."

"What's this lady of the sandwich shtick?"

"Shit," Andy snapped suddenly, an apologetic look overtaking his features. "I forgot, you prefer being called your majesty! I'm so sorry, oh great and powerful _Queen_ of the sandwiches, please forgive me!"

"I suddenly regret letting the big kids bring beer," she intoned. He just grinned and offered a thumbs up. Two, in fact. "Guys, make sure to keep the sips far, far away from this little ass." She pointed the knife at Andy, looking at Belle and Adam in turn.

"WHAT!? No faaair!" He leapt forward, sinking to his knees and throwing his arms about her waist as he tearlessly sobbed against the curve of her spine. "Your Majesty, please reconsider I beg of thee!" She felt warm. Embarrassed and entertained and boy his limbs were stupid long, like had he even stopped growing since she'd graduated? She reached one hand around to awkwardly angle her wrist, patting his head.

"There there, down boy." He started whining, squeezing tighter. It wasn't uncomfortable, but she certainly was. "Dude if I let you drink will you piss off!?"

"...yes." The admission was pressed against the dip of her lower back, hot breath through thin cloth.

"Cool, great! I retract my threat! Begone, foul beast!"

"I take offense to that," Her grimace was playful as she aimed it at Adam. He was grinning. "He's more like a foul faun."

Andy broke away from her, an expression born of pure darkness overtaking his features. He stalked over to Adam, stopping when they were chest to chest.

"Take that back, ya rotten bastard." He ground out, glaring and teeth bared and air around him beginning to super heat.

"Make me, _princess_."

"If you boys are going to be fighting, you'd better take it outside. That being said, we all, with the exception of Elsa, know that Adam's going to win so if you guys wanted to save us the trouble..." Andy deflated, back hunching and shoulders drooping.

"You could be kinder about it," he grumbled.

"If you want kindness, go to your mother," Belle smiled though, patting him upon the head. He brushed her hand off, arms crossing, a petulant scowl decorating his face. Made him look particularly constipated, Elsa noted with a laugh.

"Kindness from my own mother? HAH, and a double HAH HAH! That woman called me a douche bag today!"

"I mean she ain't wrong though..."

"Elsa why did you invite these heathens?" His scowl had very quickly morphed into a pout she found incredibly adorkable. Couldn't stop smiling at him, couldn't resist the wave of warmth flushing her body.

"Awww, baby! I can change, don't you know I will for you?!" Adam wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and trying to plant a kiss on his face.

"DUDE FUCK OFF!"

The scene brought back the night before. Hadn't Andy told her the exact same thing? Or at the very least, it'd been something incredibly similar... She should love this, and in fact in some part of her, she did love this; these two drew out the child in Andy, that fun-loving goof she'd held so dear and missed so dearly. But another part of her felt sick and dizzy with jealousy.

She most certainly wouldn't be cutting their sandwiches into triangles.

* * *

The boys had insisted on taking their own car. Which was fine, TOTALLY fine like, what-even-ever! It was the so finest that they'd made that decision. She wasn't driving her own car so no wasted gas, which was always a plus. And she got to chat with Belle, which was only slightly more awkward than talking to Andy.

Not that the young woman was cold or unkind, quite the opposite in fact. It was more a matter resisting the urge to be unkind to the rather mild-mannered human.

Jealousy made her quite ill indeed.

And guilt kept her mouth shut, because this woman was so kindly and mild.

Belle cleared her throat. A glance in her direction revealed a soft smile that was surely to ease Elsa's nerves. The question she asked did quite the opposite,

"So what's up between you and young blood?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean," the smile and chuckle and warm brown eyes all apologetic and kind are supposed to soften this... what, intervention? But it sets her teeth are on edge, her canines ache. "Andy and you. Ye and he. Thou and uh... I dunno, you get the point. What's the deal with you guys?"

"I don't understand what you mean?" She crosses her arms and huffs and still manages to make it sound like a question. There was even a touch of desperate pleading in the tone.

Belle is quiet for a few breaths. A whole handful of them. Long enough to make Elsa squirm. And then,

"He's very handsome isn't he?"

"W-what?" Elsa's face heats. She thinks it's embarrassment.

"I'm just saying," she shrugs, returning her eyes to the road. Still smiling, though. "He's a very charming young man. Pretty," she giggles when she says this. Elsa's ears feel hot. "But don't tell him I said that or he'll never shut up!" She laughs and Elsa tries but fails spectacularly. She hopes that'll be the end of it. She tries to swallow the bitter pill of confusion and her own unfounded raging emotions. Belle pipes up,

"Adam and I have an interest in him."

Elsa's thankful she isn't driving. She would have swerved off the road. Belle is eerily calm, even her smiles and chuckles and warm kindness have fled. She's serious. Incredibly so. Elsa swallows again. _I might be_ _sick_.

"Oh," her voice sounds breathy and weak to her own ears. "That's. That's interesting." Silence falls. But her trembling lips betray her stuttering mind. "B-both of you?"

"Yes. Adam and I both care for him very deeply."

"I see." She's. She's angry. So angry she wants to scream and cry. Wants to express her anger through the strength of her affinity. But she doesn't. She bites her lip and closes her eyes to take a deep breath. "Why are you telling me this?" Belle goes off laughing again.

"Green didn't suit you, but if you're determined to wear it I wanted you to have a good reason."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please folks, let me know if I done goofed anywhere and if ya don't care to, please forgive! Thanks for your support and have a fine eve!


End file.
